


Death Turns Their Back

by Ryuki



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Explicit smut start in third chapter, F/M, Kind of fluffy at the end, NSFW, Not Really Character Death, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 08:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12649557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuki/pseuds/Ryuki
Summary: It's the night of the Masquerade and Xixa can't get the hanged man out of her mind. It doesn't feel like a time to celebrate to her. Wearing her costume, she decides to head toward the Necropolis, to see his corpse.However, it truly seems Death has turned their back on Julian.





	1. The Necropolis

Lights burned all throughout Vesuvia. The excitement of the Masquerade infected every street, every alleyway. People rushed down the cobbles and dirt, dressed as ornamented interpretations of animals with heavy clouds of perfume and cologne trailing them. Singing wheedled out of the taverns, giggles heard down every dank alley. Cheer seemed to have envelope the city and everyone in it.

To Xixa, it felt as if she were the only one caught in the throes of grief as she quietly made her way through the streets. From the corner of her eye, the palace caught her attention. Brightly illuminated with lights, regal, majestic… In those walls, Portia worked – probably keeping the other servants to a timetable – and stifled back her tears. Intuition pulled the scene out, slapping it over Xixa’s thoughts.

No, Xixa wasn’t only one grieving. Portia had lost a great deal more and continued pushing forward. Xixa turned away from the palace, ducking her head shamefully. The handmaiden couldn’t take a reprieve the night of the Masquerade. Countess Nadia still didn’t know Julian was… _had been_ her brother.

The apprentice wasn’t obligated to go to the damned party, though. Not that there wasn’t the definite expectation.

In fact, it hadn’t been until the last possible moment she decided otherwise. Too many times, she broke down into chest heaving sobs when donning the teal and gold gown. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Julian at the gallows. Oh, how he struggled, swinging on that rope, gasping for… Xixa savagely shook her head. She didn’t want to remember how long he dangled there, struggling. Watching it happen was one time too many.

She had donned the inane butterfly mask and, though her mind had thought to set out for the palace, her feet headed toward the Necropolis. On the opposite side of the city, on the outskirts, gave her plenty of time to walk and mull over her plan to get inside. People eyed her garments as she passed. A few tittered that the party was the other way. Xixa ignored them all. She had to steel herself for what she was going to see.

xxx

The Necropolis crouched in darkness, the lights of the city and the merrymaking not making it to this distant place. Xixa paused before the building, a chill licking up her neck. Made of black stone, decorated with ornate carvings and pillars, it was a pantheon to Death. Here, even the weakest of spirits could break through the veil and make contact. The touch of ghosts, of spirits, of oblivion filled the air, making her stomach clench. Goosebumps ran up Xixa’s arms. So many cold fingers and hands reached out for her.

She slammed down the shutters in her mind. Her goosebumps abated as the balmy night bundled around her. The ghosts were put at bay, but there were other dangers to consider.

Treating corpses like merchandise happened at the Necropolis. It wasn’t a well-kept secret, but Xixa doubted the courtiers and Countess Nadia thought of the black market for body parts. Well… until one of their own became involved. Organs, skin, hair, even bones were used in a wide variety of magic, especially the less palatable sort. But, it _was_ practiced. Not to mention she heard surgeons often bought corpses – even if they were in pieces – for their apprentices to practice on.

Trudging toward the daunting doors, Xixa cobbled together an excuse to feed the corpse attendant. If she was lucky, they were at the Masquerade with everyone else.

As she pushed the heavy door, crossing the threshold from humid night to chilly indoors, a voice called out. “G’evening, lass! What’re you doin’ here when there’s a party going on!”

It seemed her luck had run out for the evening.

Xixa blinked, her eyes adjusting to the… was this _a foyer_? Lamps lined the walls, basking the entry area in a pleasant glow, despite the brisk ambiance. A table near the door housed a vase with a decadent bouquet. Rather plush and plump red chairs and couches spaced about the area, contrasting against the white marble floors.

Her eyes finally caught on the person behind the large, black front desk. Their skin a rich brown, with stark ice-blue gaze, seemed just as out of place as the rest of the foyer. Their dark bronze curls spilled out from their hat, which had a calligraphic ‘N’ emblazoned on it in silver.

Brushing aside her shock at the inviting atmosphere, Xixa steeled herself. Squaring her shoulders as she approached the desk with determination. She raised her chin and said as authoritatively as she could, “I’m here to see Dr. Devorak’s corpse.”

The attendant raised an eyebrow, blue eyes dipping down and up Xixa’s body. Under her cloak, the dress peeked out and the mask had settled awkwardly on her face. Obviously, her manner of dress seemed a _little_ out-of-place. “Why would you want to see such a nasty creature?”

The apprentice barely stifled her affronted growl. Instead, she offered up a tight smile to the attendant. “I just came from the Masquerade. The Countess requested I verify Ju- Dr. Devorak’s continued demise. Can’t be too careful, can we?”

At the mention of Nadia, the attendant’s eyes widened. They jumped off their seat, nodding their head. Wouldn’t want to be the hiccup in the Countess’s request, now would we? “Follow me.”

They pushed aside a curtain, which hid a long stretch of sterile white hallway and black doors. Plain black lanterns hung from the ceiling, burning their midnight oil. After the attendant ducked forward, Xixa followed. A blast of cold air churned down the hallway, biting through her clothes.

“Sorry for the chill,” the attendant threw an apologetic smile over their shoulder. “Corpses rot unless kept very cold.”

Her stomach crawled with anxiety. In an attempt to ignore her discomfort, she read the silver plaques on each door: Asphyxiation, Stabbing, Dismemberment, Poison, Decapitation…

“We haven’t had a corpse from a public hanging in awhile,” the attendant chattered. They seemed completely at unaffected inside the Necropolis, despite the fact they were surrounded by dead bodies. And, probably unknown to them, spirits. To a point, Xixa envied them. “Ah, here we are.”

The door they stopped in front of had a plaque that read: Public Executions.

“Fun fact: Magic discerns the difference between regular death and those put to death for crimes! Asphyxiation has its own area, I’m sure you saw it.” The attendant flashed Xixa a bright smile as they flipped through a keyring. All the keys were black, with silver numbers painted on them. “Who’d’ve thunk magic was so particular, right?”

Xixa already knew this, though she didn’t often think of it. Many magic users – grey to black magic, _mostly_ – needed the Toe Of A Hanged Man or Nose Of A Dead Man. There were substitutions, of course, but there were rather strict ‘traditionalists.’ The attendant looked at her with such earnestness, though, Xixa couldn’t help an insincere smile and polite, “Interesting.”

Finally, the attendant found the key. They jammed it into the keyhole, the tumbler clicking after a turn. They slowly pushed the door open. Xixa held her breath, pulling her mental shutters closer. She had to be prepared for what she saw inside. The corpse, laying on a slab? The decency of a white sheet? Had they already done an autopsy? Or cut him into pieces for greater profit?

The door jerked the rest of the way, the attendant’s eyes widening as the doorknob slipped from their hand. From the innards of the frigid dark of the room, a voice burst forth. “You l-l-let me keep m-my eye p-p-patch, but you take m-my blasted pants?!”

Julian Devorak stepped forward, a pale shining beacon in the cooler. A _completely nude_ and shivering beacon. Xixa’s hands flew to her mouth, a gasp slipping from between her fingers. Ice crystals peppered his hair and hung from his eyelashes. The flush of cold bit over his body and his lips harbored a blue hue. A faint bruise around his neck seemed to be the sole remnant of his time at the gallows. And _that_ injury was fading fast. Beside her, the attendant crumpled to the floor.

“Oh!” Xixa’s head snapped to the fainted attendant. She swept down, fingers checking their head for a wound. Other than a particularly nasty knot, she wagered they’d be fine.

Across the attendant’s body, Julian knelt. His practiced hands worked along their scalp, wincing slightly as the glow on his throat transferred whatever problems he found. His eye came up, finally catching Xixa’s masked face.

“I s-suppose I s-should be flattered,” Julian’s bitter smile, well-known to Xixa, crossed his lips. The stutter of cold still afflicted his words. Judging by the lilt of his tone, the apprentice realized hadn’t recognize her. “Y-you w-wanted to see the d-dead murderer instead of s-s-staying at the party.”

“Something like that,” she whispered, eyes trailing over his face. Disbelief still coiled around her thoughts. There was no way this was happening. Maybe she was dreaming? The nudity definitely seemed like dream material.

Julian’s eye widened, realization finally sinking in. Softly, he gasped, “X-Xixa?”

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, the word settling into her brain. She didn’t think she’d hear his voice say her name, ever again. A shift from the unconscious attendant quickly drew Xixa away from her thoughts. Her eyes flickered up and down the hallway. She and Julian had to get out of the Necropolis.

Skirting around the attendant’s prone body, Xixa draped her cloak around Julian’s nude form. As she reached up to remove her mask, Julian stood, confusion dotting his expression. “What a-are y-you doing?”

“We’ve got to get you out of here.” It was matter-of-fact, obvious. Finally free of her mask, she pressed it toward him. Her gaze flickered down his body, thankful her cloak reached his knees. “You can’t walk out of here buck naked and with your face unobstructed.”

“Well, I _c-_ _c_ _ould_ ,” Julian grinned, eyebrows arching as if he enjoyed the prospect of streaking through Vesuvia. He donned the mask, regardless. “But, I’m n-not eager for another trip to the g-gallows.”

Xixa tensed at the mention of his previous fate. Instead of dwelling, she grabbed his hand – trying to ignore how cold it was – and began to guide Julian through the halls of the Necropolis. The doctor squeezed her hand and, she thought, she heard him sniffle. A swarm of emotions warred in her and she was certain a good deal of them were incited by Julian.

“We’ll have a moment when I get you somewhere safe.” She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, just as they made it to the foyer curtain. Julian replied with a half-choked sob.


	2. Hands-On Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Xixa make it to the magic shoppe, the only safe spot the apprentice can think of. There, they relish in his return to the living. (Pre-smut chapter. Just steamy.)

The trip back to the shop was surprisingly uneventful. Inebriation and the exuberance from partying kept people’s eyes away from darkened alleyways and bare legged men in awkwardly short cloaks. The two managed to get through the city with no random encounters. The man still sniffled. He quietly assured Xixa it all from the transition from cold to warm. She knew better, of course.

When Julian and Xixa crossed the threshold of the magic shoppe – the only safe space she could bring herself to take him – the apprentice still breathed a sigh of relief.

Momentarily reprieved of her touch, Julian shook the remaining sniffles away. He quickly removed the mask, swiping at his eye with the palm of his hand, removing any lingering tears. The sight of Xixa, in that cold hallway, briefly made him wonder if he had truly died and gone to a more pleasant existence. He had prepared to fight his way out, against some black marketeer or surgeon in need of a dissection cadaver, while partially frozen cold. Instead, there she was, like an angel sent to retrieve this poor sinner’s soul. As they dodged through Vesuvia, the enormity of this turn of events dogged at him. _It hadn’t been the end._

What would he do with this second chance? Julian’s eye cast toward Xixa, just as a light flickered to life in her hand. He watched her, entranced, as she transferred the fire to a lantern. What _would_ he do? His heart pattered, quick and cautious, as imaginings filled his brain.

When she turned back, he clutched the butterfly mask in fiddling fingers. Julian’s eye studied her in the illumination. His gaze traced the ornate dress she wore – the rich bluish teal color, the gold embellishments, the black lace – and Xixa flushed with embarrassment.

Vaguely, Julian realized Xixa must have skipped out on the Masquerade to visit him. Quietly, he thanked the universe for the gift. As frivolous a thought it was, he wanted to see her dressed for the party. It seemed most things he had been worried about losing on the gallows was presenting itself in one night. Glancing down at his own self, hiding the flare of pink painted over his cheeks, Julian coughed, “I feel severely under-dressed.”

He smiled sheepishly back up at her. Something finally rang loudly into Xixa’s mind. Julian was alive. Could his curse bring him back from the dead? Or did it allow one foot to remain on this side of the veil? Was that why he struggled so long in the noose? Her mind buzzed with questions and concerns. Whatever the reason, regardless of the consequences, a burst of delight shot through her.

Crossing the distance of the shoppe, Xixa grabbed him by the front of the cloak. Hauling on the fabric, she forced him to bow toward her and she crushed her lips against his. Tears swelled over her eyelashes, a couple streaming down her cheeks. Julian let out a whimper, pressing into the kiss. Her lips soft, and malleable, and full of fire.

With onearm looped around the back of his neck, Xixa buried a hand into his hair. Her fingers threaded into his locks, tugging gently. It felt damp, iced from the cooler and melted in the humidity. Her other hand slid beneath the cloak, fingertips softly tracing the path of his hair, from chest to abdomen. Another whimper squeezed from Julian, mind flooded with sensations and warmth. Pleasurable heat tickled across his body, still slightly chilled from the cellar.

His hands roved over Xixa, wanting to touch her anywhere – everywhere – at once. Never, had he thought, he’d be in a position like this, again. He couldn’t touch her enough. It was as if he hungered for her during their time apart, however dreadfully far they had been. His fingers slid to her back, tugging at the strings of her top. Bashfulness had left his thoughts tonight. Perhaps it was attending the Masquerade.

As the corset of her dress loosened, Xixa realized just how starving the man was. At the thrill that raked through her lower tummy, she also recognized how much she craved for him. Especially after losing him. The apprentice pulled away from the kiss, Julian leaning closer to continue. Pressing a finger to his lips, Xixa smiled as his eye popped open.

“Doctor,” she murmured, both arms drifting to embrace him in a mid-torso hug. “I think you need a full-body examination. Shall we relocate?”

“Yes.” The word shot out of his mouth faster than the blush spreading from ear to ear.

Xixa grinned up at him, pulling away enough to lead him through the shoppe. On her way, she snagged the lantern to light their path.

Palatable excitement buzzed around them as they made their way to the bedroom. Xixa could feel Julian’s nervous energy infecting her, jumping along her nerves. Excitement lit across her body. She bit down a smile as she released his hand, confusion radiating off Julian.

“Get seated on the bed, please,” she called over her shoulder after placing the lantern on a hook. She headed toward the single wardrobe in the room. “I’ll be right there.”

Julian eased himself to the bed, trying to forget the few times he had been there with Asra. Did Xixa know about those times? His eye flickered over toward her, curiously, and his heart leaped into his throat. With wiggling movements, she peeled the dress off her – the corset he had loosened already at her feet – revealing swaths of bare skin. His fingers curled into the sheets, itching to touch. Hormones swarmed his imagination, heating his cheeks further. Even the smallest of her movements taunted his libido.

The show was ended as Xixa shrugged on an over-sized white tunic and turned to him. A coy smile curled over her lips. The sight of him on her bed – his long legs splayed in front of him, the cloak still clasped and maintaining his modesty – brushed her thoughts with ideas. Burning across his face, a bright streak of red. She knew he had been watching and, if truth be told, she had taken a smidgen longer to decide on a top than necessary. Judging from the twists of the bed sheet, his nerves had him in knots. Was he excited? Or nervous?

“Well, doctor,” she purred, traversing the room slowly. He watched her approach, hunger in his eye and a confident sway to her step. Xixa caught him by the chin, forcing him to lower his line of sight as she leaned down, pressing her lips to his forehead. Julian didn’t complain, his view dragging to the large, open collar of the tunic and her naked breasts that lay beneath. Pulling away from his skin, she murmured, “You still feel chilled.”

“Oh?” Was all Julian managed, around vocal cords taut with excitement.

“Perhaps, you need some hands-on care.” A lascivious grin broke across her lips as Julian’s eye flickered to her face. She wasn’t sure how much redder his face could get, or how much more yearning his gaze could soak in, but Xixa was going to find out.


	3. Show Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (SMUT/SEX SCENE) Xixa takes Julian to her room, ready to administer some more "hands on" treatment for his chilled body.

“Perhaps, you need some hands-on care.” A lascivious grin broke across her lips as Julian’s eye flickered to her face. She wasn’t sure how much redder his face could get, or how much more yearning his gaze could soak in, but Xixa was going to find out.

Julian couldn’t breathe. Too much energy funneled into the anticipatory thrill, making him forget how to do things like exhale and inhale. It became especially hard as Xixa unclasped the cloak and, slowly, slid it from his shoulders. He shuddered, the only physical barrier between him and the world coming down. He couldn’t tear his eye from her face, though. A quiet voracity, a silent craving, burned there. Almost as hot as the need churning in him.

The cloak fell to the bed with a quiet shift of fabric, leaving the doctor completely bare before the apprentice. Xixa brushed a hand through his hair, tucking errant locks behind his ear, as her gaze conspicuously dropped down his body. Freckles peppered his shoulders, fading down the length of his arms. His chest – oh, she _remembered_ the little glimpses of this through his undershirt – broad and sprinkled with chest hair. How many nights did she wonder how it’d feel to touch him there? Kiss him there? Down his torso, his trail of hair continued, ending in a thick patch and his – _ahem_ – treasure.

Excitement throbbed intensely through Julian’s body, at Xixa’s gentle touch, at her smoldering gaze. Everything. Just everything she did affected him. She lowered herself into his lap, straddling him with her soft, warm thighs. ‘ _Smother me with your thighs_ ’ briefly flashed through his mind. He didn’t have time to dwell on the idea. Xixa’s lips caressed his neck, interrupting all thought as she raked her teeth across his flesh.

A low groan vibrated through Julian, as soon as her lips touched him. Xixa’s hand slid along the opposite side of his neck, behind his ear, burrowing into his hair. Her fingers coiled into his curls, tugging his head back without warning. A sharp exhalation shuddered from Julian, pain prickling over his scalp. His hands came up Xixa’s legs, grip clamping at her hips. The apprentice shifted against him – testing his quickly disintegrating restraint – brushing teasingly against his arousal.

Teeth savaged his throat, followed by suckling kisses. His body wracked with a gasp, a groan, a shudder. Pleasure-pain flitted through his nerves, intense and quick, before the curse made it fade. Xixa made a few passes along his neck, nipping and kissing, before making her way to his ear. Her tongue ran along the lip of his ear, lobe to top, before she blew a gentle, hot breath in. Julian’s fingers tightened, hips jerking upward slightly. _Everything burned_. His face, his throat, his loins. Every inch of him smoldered under Xixa.

And she fucking _knew_ it.

“You once said you wanted me,” she whispered, her own breath hitched with passion. Her lips brushed toward his neck again.

“Y-yes.” His stomach flipped, trying to guess where her words were going. It was becoming difficult to milk a coherent thought from his mind, especially with her light nibbles along his neck. He closed his eye, having to concentrate on his words, “I still want you, Xixa.”

“Words are all well and good,” she smiled against throat, slow and sly. Xixa pressed firmly down on his erection, the fabric of her undergarment maintaining a barrier. “But _I_ want you to show me how much you want me.”

Too much heat, too many touches. Her hips grinding against him, pressing down. His arousal twitched against her, damning the strip of cloth between them. Her nibbles had morphed into rough, sucking bites along his neck. He swallowed, relishing in the hickeys that bled across his neck, even as they slowly faded. “Wh-what?”

“ _Show_ me,” Xixa hissed against his neck, her hot breath tickling his flesh, “How much you want me.”

Maybe it was the request, maybe it was her sinking her teeth into a particularly good spot. His restraint burned in carnal need. The man grasped Xixa tightly by the hips, flipping Xixa onto her back as he knelt over her. He cradled the back of her head, lips meeting. She arched into him, hands on his shoulders, fingernails digging into his flesh. A deep groan bubbled from his throat, into the kiss. The searing edge of pleasure slicing down his nerves.

He broke the kiss, desperate to taste other parts of her. Julian trailed kisses down her neck, eliciting wriggles and sighs of delight from the woman. He paused only at the neckline of her tunic, casting a glance at Xixa, asking permission to go farther. A breathy laugh fell from her lips as soon as she realized his cause for pause. She brought her upper body up to pull the shirt off, hurriedly.

In the light of the lantern, Julian couldn’t take his eye from her. The arc of her shoulders, the taper of her arms, the round swell of her breasts. A plethora of want and adoration pierced his thoughts.

Still half-sitting, Xixa grabbed Julian’s hands, leading them to her chest. As searing hot as his look made her feel, she wanted his hands on her. Julian didn’t need much more guiding. As soon as his palms touched her flesh, the urge to give her the best damn pleasure – to make her writhe, hear her moan, be graced with her shrieks of delight – kicked his thoughts into gear. Julian wanted to show her how much he wanted her, how much he _needed_ her.

His thumbs flicked over the already-hard bead of her nipples, fingers squeezing and kneading the rest of her breasts. A soft gasp, tinged with a mewl, left her lips. The sound shot straight to Julian’s groin. Her head tossed back, heat clawing up her chest, body melting into the sensations. Her long neck exposed, as she pressed her chest up toward his talented hands.

The apprentice’s hands drifted up his arms, digging nails leaving quickly fading red streaks along the way, before taking their place at his shoulders. Julian’s lips trailed along her neck, hands still massaging her bosom. Her pulse beat against his lips, his tongue, as he made his way down her back. He detoured along her clavicle, nipping along the ridge. Passion flared in him, guiding his mouth down toward her breasts. He kissed along the swell of her breast, mouth encasing her sensitive nipple in heat.

Xixa whimpered, squirming beneath him. His tongue and teeth worried her pearl of a nipple, sending electric shocks of a lesser pain-pleasure. A heated gasp left her lips as he blew a cold burst of air against her slicked tit, then he moved to give equal attention to her other breast.

The apprentice thought she was melting. Into the sheets, the bed, Julian. The heat felt hotter than any Vesuvian day she had experienced. Her back arced against the bed, toes curling as pleasure dotted along her nerves. Fingernails dug into Julian’s shoulders, treating her breasts to the vibrations of his moan.

If she reacted this way to his mouth on her breasts, Julian wondered how much pleasure he could deliver elsewhere. Moving his lips away, Xixa whined at the sudden cold air on her ravaged breast. However, Julian’s continued course south cut the sound of displeasure off. A flare clawed across her face, her own ears burning as she realized the doctor’s destination.

Julian paused again as his lips encountered the fabric of her undergarment. He caught Xixa’s gaze – darkened and glazed with lust and need – and already knew the answer to his question. Though his fingers traced the edge of her piece of remaining clothing, Julian couldn’t help affirming. “May I?”

Unable to trust her mouth, Xixa swallowed and nodded. Excitement coursed over her, like hot water dripping through every nerve, every synapse. Her fingers dug into the bed in anticipation. Parting her legs, so willingly, as he removed the scrap of fabric, kicking it off the bed, she vaguely realized the state she laid before him. Nude, flushed, wet, and vulnerable.

The look in Julian’s eye shot her insecurities out of her thoughts. He sat back on his heels, his eye drinking in the image of her. Face flushed and eye dark with passion, he looked _hungry_ for something. And she was more than willing to feed that craving. Xixa swallowed down a jolt of embarrassed delight as he descended on her.


	4. Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (SMUT/SEX SCENE) 
> 
> Julian and Xixa continue their night of revelry.

It didn’t take his tongue long to home in on the nub of pleasure, just above her opening. Slick, malleable heat pressed against Xixa, a cascade of pleasure erupting from her core. She gasped, whimpering and arching into his mouth. Her fingers dug into the bed as Julian pulled away from her clit, leaving her – for the moment – untouched. Julian wasn’t away for long. His lips, his teeth, his tongue made their way down the length of her inner thigh, before he delved into her curls.

Without hesitation, his tongue parted her lower lips, tasting her for the first time. At the touch of his mouth, a full body spasm clenched along her muscles, a gasp and a whimper wheedling out of her lips. Julian groaned as her hands found his head, tugging at his tresses, while her thighs closed so tightly around him. Dizzying and intoxicating, Xixa’s scent surrounded him as he lapped up her sweet taste.

Tension coiled in her core. Hot and searing and growing. It pulsed against her nerves to the rhythm of Julian’s tongue. Her toes curled and uncurled against the bed, muscles tensing every second. Her fingernails scraped along the back of his scalp, her whimpers growing into moans. Xixa bit her bottom lip as his ministrations – enhanced by his own groans of erotic fervor – continued, bringing her closer to the edge.

The heat crested, hot and unforgiving and thrilling. A ragged gasp left her, a moan spilling from her lips soon after. The moan pitched higher, louder, until a short scream tore at her throat. Carnal heat bit along her nerves, kissed her body with a spasm of searing pleasure, shattering the earlier tension.

Julian’s tongue didn’t stop. His hands came to her hips, holding her in place as her writhing became more erratic. Another upsurge of hot bliss quickly crashed over her, her body’s weak from the first wave.

Even as Xixa’s thighs crushed around his ears, fingers digging into his scalp, her moans and trembling body spurred him on. He wanted her tangled in the throes of pleasure forever. Wanted to hear his name on her lips while her body quivered around him. An ache pounded at his body, his own mounting pleasure evident by his erect arousal.

“Julian,” moaned Xixa, the name coming out almost as a cry near the end. Her hips jerked under echoes of pleasure, his mouth never letting up. “Juliaooh.”

His fingers had slid to her clit, toying with the throbbing bundle of nerves. Ecstatic prickles raced along her body, tears biting into the corners of her eyes. Xixa felt like she was shattering under all his touches. The apprentice had to try a different approach. Gathering her last remaining wits, pulling harshly on Julian’s hair, Xixa managed to bite out, “Ilya.”

It seemed that name pierced the veil of passion. Julian pulled himself away from her. His lips and chin slick with her juices, hair mussed from her fingers, passion darkened eye wide. He looked consumed and wild. “What?”

Xixa propped herself up on one hand, pulling Julian down with the other. Pressing a kiss to his lips, tasting herself on his tongue. Pulling away slightly, she murmured, “I want more than your tongue.”

Before Julian could cobble together a response, Xixa grabbed him by his shoulders, maneuvering him beneath her. He followed her lead, without hesitation. As his head flopped against the pillows, legs propped to keep his feet on the bed, Julian stared up at Xixa. Her crystalline eyes bore down into him, bright and glittering. The heat in that look jabbed at his tight, lower stomach. The apprentice inclined down, lips catching his lips. A groan strung from his lips as her tongue invaded him.

Xixa’s hips rolled against him, against his arousal. Wet heat taunted him, so far yet so close. His hands slid up her thighs, up her sides. Palms unable to touch her soft body enough. The woman sighed, delighted, against his mouth. Ever pass of his palms sent another warm trickle of pleasure through her body. Her hips shifted, catching the head of his erection between her slick folds.

He groaned, arching his back, hips jerking up slightly, seeking the entirety moist heat. Xixa tilted her hips, grinning against his lips as she purposefully delayed further penetration. Her teeth sunk into his bottom lip, jolting pleasure dripping down his spine as she pulled back before releasing him.

The apprentice teasingly smiled at the doctor. “Want me?”

He nodded desperately, hands grasping at her hips. It would be so easy to pull her down, bring his hips up. Fill her with him. He didn’t, though. Xixa was in charge and, it seemed, she enjoyed watching him squirm. While Julian loved the edge of her teasing, he wasn’t above begging. Voice hoarse, Julian rasped, “Please.”

The wanting, the need, in his voice traced a flutter of delight down Xixa’s back. Maybe, some other night, she’d make him beg harder. Longer. Tonight, she ached to have him. Maybe more than he knew. Xixa leaned forward, pressing her lips to Julian’s throat. Her teeth sunk into his flesh just as her hips came down against him, gliding his arousal into her.

“Fuck,” Julian gasped, just before a moan curled from his lips. She was warm and wet and pulsing around his erection. The friction of her walls as she moved, sliding up and down his shaft, teased at his core. Heat multiplied, it became harder for him to breathe again. She bounced against him, breasts jiggling with the rhythm. His fingers curled into Xixa, guiding her hips harder against him as he raised himself up to meet her. With every meeting of their hips, ever deeper thrust into her, a short gasping moan left her lips.

Xixa’s mouth trailed up his neck, panting breaths against his ear. He jerked his hips up harder, rewarded with a mewl and a shudder from the woman. Every little sound, every tightened throb around him, every shiver. Sizzling, tingling heat piled up in him, tightening his every muscle. She pressed down against him, breasts flush against his chest, hips grinding against him. She whimpered one word that set his body utterly aflame, “Ilya.”

No words exchanged, no warning. Julian pulled Xixa tight against him, navigating them through another position swap. She stared up at him, eyes wide and face flushed, head pressed against the pillows. Julian plunged back into her, her legs instinctively wrapping around him. His mind a fog of passion, Julian pounded desperately into her. Xixa whimpered around her ragged breaths and curved toward him, her body clenching tightly around him. Her arms came up around his trunk, nails clawing down the length of his back.

Heart slamming in his chest, breaths frayed with desire, heat, and the hard edge of pleasure hot along his body. The man pressed his lips to her neck, tasting her erratic pulse against his tongue. Xixa suddenly gasped, jerking forward to catch his throat against her teeth. Through her rough bite, a muffled scream – stronger, louder than any of her other delicious sounds – resonated against his throat. Her walls clamped around him, pulsating and throbbing. A wave of heat fluttered around him, driving him the last step over the edge.

Julian’s hips jerked hard against Xixa a few more times. Until, finally, he drove himself as deep as his throbbing member could go. Tightness clenched at his loins, until intense heat burst forth. He moaned her name, loud and rough, against the crook of her shoulder.

A set of his fingers gouged into the bed, the other set cradling the back of Xixa’s head, as an unbearably scalding bliss shot through his body.

Her fingernails raked across his back, a renewed series of moans against his throat, as the swell of heat surged through her. Legs tightening, drawing him as close as she could.

After a few jerking spasms of his hips, Julian lowered his weight onto her, legs and arms shaking. Sweat slicked down his back, a sheen cold along his arms. Nuzzling his face close to her neck, he took in Xixa’s scent, the perfume of sex winding its way around them. Her thighs trembled around him as she, carefully, unwound them from his waist. Gentle fingers rubbed along his shoulder and against his scalp. Xixa enjoyed watching him subtly lean into her touches, as the passionate heat dwindled.

“Julian?” Xixa murmured. The man still had his face buried against her, his breathing deep. She faintly wondered if he had fallen asleep. He turned his face up toward her, tears glistening in his eye. Worry pressed against Xixa’s afterglow. “Are you crying?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, wiping at the traitorous tears with the palm of his hand. “This is pure perfection. I just… At the gallows… I _never_ thought…”

His voice broke, regret twisting into his voice. Julian buried his face against Xixa, his arms snaking around her. He held her close, as if afraid everything would dissipate into the dark.

Gingerly, the apprentice brushed her fingers through his hair. The waves of utter joy pulsed harder, warmer, through him. Tears bit at the back of her own eyes. Though Julian couldn’t put his grief into words, her own thoughts had felt similar. Standing in the crowd at the gallows, staring at his lone figure. Never, in a million years, would she think a curse could save someone’s life. Swiping the back of her hand against her eyes, Xixa murmured, “I know what you mean.”

The sound of her voice drew Julian’s eye to her face. Tears beaded down her cheeks as she tried to wipe them all away. Searching her face, guilt tinging his thoughts, the doctor wished he had better control of his emotions. If he had, they could enjoy the afterglow more pleasantly. He slid off her and, after dragging a blanket over their naked forms, gathered her up in his arms to lay side-by-side. Crushing her to him, Julian buried his face into her hair. Xixa pressed her face to his chest, hands flush against him. Their legs tangled beneath the blanket, neither wanting to risk the other being pulled away, again.

Silent moments passed. Occasionally, the sound of a merrymaker passed by outside, sound wheedling into the intimate setting.

"Julian," Xixa whispered, her breath teasing his chest hairs. The man gave her a gentle squeeze. She shifted against him, her face warming and ears burning. Burrowing into his chest again, her words came muffled against his chest.

Forced to pull back, to give Xixa a bit more space to talk, Julian's curiosity brought his gaze toward the woman huddled against him. "I didn’t catch that."

"I think I love you." Xixa mumbled louder, fast and flustered. She could feel his eye on her, but her gaze refused to tilt upward. Her fingers curled against his chest, words falling from her lips. “We haven’t known each other long, but we’ve been through a lot, and I just-”

Julian’s palm cupping her cheek silenced her ramble. She peeked up at him, his thumb grazing over her lower lip. That pink blush tinged his face, ear to ear, as he stared down at her. A rush of delight filled Xixa, heart pounding under that look.

“I love you, too.” He leaned down, eye closing as he caught her lips against his. The heat of pleasure – somehow warmer, softer, more prickling than before – arched up his body. A soft sound escaped Xixa’s lips as she pressed into the kiss, curving into his body. The warmth in the kiss morphed into something headier, filling their chests with a humid desire.

As the kiss broke, breathing hitched, Xixa’s lips danced across his shoulder. Longing reignited in her body, needing another taste of this man. Julian closed his eye, enjoying the pleasurable prickles just her lips could evoke. She trailed back to his neck, Xixa’s words came like flashes of delight across his skin. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

As she turned her eyes to him – those crystalline eyes, smoldering with long denied cravings – a grin pulled across Julian’s lips. “Me neither.”

The apprentice’s lips twisted into a smirk, sending Julian’s hormones aflutter. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, her leg curled over his hip, bringing his lower body – and his growing arousal – closer to her heat. “Good.”

Before the wave of amorous heat submerged him, all Julian could think of was how good it was to be alive.


End file.
